


Swallow Me Whole

by MarTheGhost



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror, Depression, F/M, Malnutrition, Mental Illness, Understanding, Working Through Together, numb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarTheGhost/pseuds/MarTheGhost
Summary: It swallows you whole.
"Darling, what did you do? Breathe, smell the roses that have taken hold of your heart, the thorns that wrap around your lungs. Let me ease them away, I don't mind the pricks. Please." he begs.





	

It starts.

The feeling you've been staving off for weeks now, but it always comes back.

You're drowning, the black salt water burning your lungs. You can't breathe.

He comes into bed without you realizing it, and scares you even when he's gentle. You jump. He knows you're different right now, and he's been walking on eggshells around you.

He loves you, he loves you. He does this for you.

He holds you gently, as if you were the most expensive gift he was given, and brings you to his chest. You breathe him in, grasping at his shirt and intertwining legs with his.

He's surprised. You haven't been intimate with him for a while now, and he's gotten use to this one-sided loving, as much as he hates it. It makes the strings tangle again. But that doesn't matter right now. You're hurting.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whisper into his shirt, and he nods. "I know. You don't have to be."

"I'm broken. Why do you want me?" You ask. He's silent for a long time.

"You're not broken. Broken things don't work."

 

~

 

"They make it hard to breathe," you look up at him, and he kisses your forehead.

"The roses?" He guesses. You nod. "They are in my heart, the thorns around my lungs. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hushes you.

"Let me remove them. Let me help you. Please, I love you. I don't want to lose you." He kisses you. You kiss back. It turns into something more.

 

~

 

You wake up still on his now bare chest. Surprising, because he's normally gone by 6.

"You're here." You say. "Paperwork doesn't matter like you do," he shrugs. "Important deals need to be made," you argue, but he shushes you with a kiss.

 

~

 

It's noon and you're still curled in bed. No lights, but you're awake. The bath is running, you think nothing of it. It shuts off. He comes in and picks you up. You end up in the bathroom, the bath drawn already.

He sets you down. You look at him blankly, unmoving for several minutes. He takes your arms and moves them above your head, and begins removing your shirt. It drops to the floor as his eyes widen at your ribs.

"You haven't been eating again." It's a cold statement. "I'm never hungry," you shrug. His fingertips ghost over your skin, moving over each rib. "We'll work on it," he says, and crouches to remove your shorts. He sits you on the closed toilet lid and begins removing his own clothes. You stay silent, but take in his toned stomach.

He picks you up bridal style again, and gently steps over the edge of the tub. He lowers himself into the water, taking you with him. He moves you to sit with your back to him. He takes your shampoo and begins lathering your hair. He's silent as he takes a cup that was sitting near the tub and begins rinsing your hair. You close your eyes. He let's the cup float in the warm water while he washes your shoulders.

Gently, gently, you're fragile. So is he.

He moves from your shoulders down your back, he feels every knob, he sees your shoulder blades under your seemingly stretched skin. He feels as fragile as you look. He washes you, you only moving when he moves you. He doesn't wash himself. He's focused on you. It's silent between the both of you.

He stands up. You look up from where you're still sitting in the water. He looms over you, his shins against your back. He looks soft, his facial features not in the hard expressionless mask he normally wears.

He let's it down for you. Only ever for you.

He pulls you up from underneath your arms, and his hands move to your elbows. He gently guides you to stepping over the tub. There's a chill against your skin, goosebumps spread. He steps out after you, and grabs the biggest towel from the cabinet. He wraps it around you. You feel for the first time.

You look up at him, his grey eyes are already searching yours for an answer. "Tell me how to fix this" they seem to beg. You don't know the answer.

"You're flush," he states. You glance in the mirror. The person staring back is not you. This person is tiny, thin, hair limp and dull, cheekbones prominent from lack of nutrition, ghost white skin with almost doll-fake blush against their cheeks. A hand moves to touch your face, and you gasp when you feel tears from your glass-like eyes.

Jumin stands behind you silently, and you look up at him through the mirror. His face is carefully masked again, not letting his true emotions show. Eyes distant, Lips pursed. You know he does this to keep you from feeling guilt.

You turn around and look at him. He meets your eyes silently. "Tell me," you start, "tell me what you feel when you see me like this."

The mask shatters, and the walls he's built to keep you from hurting break. Tears fall. "It... this is the ghost of who you really are," he says. You nod, wanting him to continue. "It breaks me that this battle is in here," he taps your temple. "it's something I can't fix with money, it's something I can fix," his legs wobble, and suddenly he's on his knees, his hands in yours, his head fallen.

"I'm useless to you. I cannot fix this for you," his shoulders shake with the sobs racking his body."I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." He lifts his head to kiss your hands, each I Love You said between kisses that move past your boney wrist and up your arm as he slowly gets to his feet again. He kisses you on the lips now, fully and desperately. Like he's trying to convey everything he can't say into one kiss. His hands come up to cup your face, and yours move to his shoulders.

You both move away, breathless. He stares at you. He steps away from you, and moves his arms out to the side. "Here I am, nakedly, for you to see that everything I do is for you, please, I love you." He pleads, for what, is unknown, but he pleads for you, and you understand. You nod.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he steps back toward you and wraps you into him. He picks you up and moves the both of you to his bed. "It'll soak," you say. "I'll have the maids switch out the blankets, then."

He hasn't let you go. You can't tell where he ends and you begin. Maybe it's been that way for a while. You are so entwined with him, and he to you, that you didn't realize your thorns hurt him too. He breathes as you do, he feels every prick into his lungs. He hurts with you. You understand now.

Something new swallows you. His love swallows you. You gasp.

It swallows you whole.

"Darling, what did you do? Breathe, smell the roses that have taken hold of your heart, the thorns that wrap around your lungs. Let me ease them away, I don't mind the pricks. Please." he begs.

You nod. "It hurts you too," you say your realization, and his body untenses in relief. "Yes, yes. I feel everything." He moves his hands all over your body. "I feel everything."

"I don't want you to hurt." You say, but he shushes you. "I feel what you feel. It hurts you too." His last sentence echoes back to you, and you understand. "I'll get better," you decide. "I'm hurting you. I have to get better," he laughs softly, his hands finally resting and pulling you into his chest.

"We'll work on it. It's okay, I love you." He laughs again and kisses your nose. You give a weak smile.

The thorns are thinner. Still there, but not as much. You aren't drowning anymore, he's your life-preserver, and you're starting to float again. You've got black salt water in your lungs, and it still burns, but it's better than not breathing at all.

Yes, this is better than not breathing at all.


End file.
